Heart of Stone
by Bumblebee
Summary: After falling in love, Draco Malfoy recalls the events of the week in his 6th year at Hogwarts...


Author: Bumblebee

Date Written: 1 April 2000

Summary: After falling in love, Draco Malfoy looks back at the fateful two weeks during his 6th year at Hogwarts…

Sequels: Bumblebee does not DO sequels unless asked nicely by at least 3 people…

Series: This is not part of a series.

Dedication: For Laura and Jenni.

Disclaimer: Harry and Company belongs to J. K. Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing Co.

© 2000 by Bumblebee.

A/N: Hey, y'all! Glad to be here. Hey, does anyone know how to upload off Microsoft Word? I have to use my school computer until I figure it out. Oh, well… Here goes the story, and please review! You can contact me at [bee824@yahoo.com][1] if you wish.

Heart of Stone

I used to think I was my father's son, through and through. But now, in light of current situations, I'm not so sure. Let me explain.

My name is Draco Malfoy, from the one of the more prominent wizarding families around today. My father, Lucius, works for the Ministry of Magic, and if little kids at the wizarding elementary schools wrote stories about the adults in the wizarding world, my father would be the antagonist in 99% of them. You see, he's an all-around bad guy, what with You-Know-Who and such. I wouldn't trust him with my rucksack, let alone with my life. My mum, Maggie, should be "seen and not heard", according to my father. She's like his trophy wife, to drag around to parties and such. So everyone else can say, "Oh look at that Lucius Malfoy, he's got it all; obedient son, gorgeous wife. I wish I was like him." When in reality, she spends most of her time in her bedchambers, quietly waiting for the next party. She doesn't talk much, either. 

Anyway, let me backtrack. I have a habit of doing things at the most inopportune times. For example, I make an idiot of myself just when the whole school is watching, or insult Potter just when Professor McGonagall is walking by. Just as I did this summer. I fall in love going into my sixth year at Hogwarts. Great timing, right? Wrong. Especially when I'm in love with the person my father would despise most. 

Ginny Weasley.

You see, my father and Arthur Weasley are mortal enemies. Even though they are a pureblooded wizard family, they aren't exactly rich. But the Malfoy family is. And even though they are normally a very kind family, it's not like they would tolerate their only daughter dating the scum of the earth. (That would be me.) Plus, I suspect Ginny is in love with Potter, that wretched person. But he doesn't love her, you see. I don't know who Potter is in love with. But I assure you that if I did, I would humiliate him. 

Anyway, I don't even know if I'm really in love with Ginny, or if it's some warped form of teenage infatuation. Probably the latter, but you never know, right?

It all started on the Hogwarts Express. I decided that I was going to go and torture Potter, Granger and Ron Weasley for a while. "Crabbe, Goyle, get over here, now. We're gonna go torture Potty, Gangly, and the Weasel for a while."

Crabbe and Goyle are like my bodyguards. Plus, they're really stupid, so I can order them around and they're like, okay, Draco, whatever you say. So I wouldn't call them friends exactly, just a business investment. 

"Yes sir, Draco!"

"What're we gonna do this time?"

I thought. "I don't know. Why don't we decide when we get to their train car?"

I had a few ideas. However, they all depended on a few factors. Whether or not anyone else was in the train car, how much baggage they had, all kinds of stuff. Luckily, they got permission from Dumbledore so they didn't have to sit in the Prefect car. Otherwise there'd be a ton of people all around them. I had to sit there, so I left the car and headed to the back of the train. 

Luckily, Potter, Granger, and Weasley were all there, along with Longbottom and Ginny Weasley. "So Potter," I said, sneering, "How's the godfather? Still blowing up people?"

"Shut up Malfoy," he said. "Sirius is innocent, and you know it."

"Not in the eyes of the law, he isn't. If they ever catch him, it's the Dementor's Kiss for sure."

Ginny broke in. "Innocent until proven guilty, Draco, and no one has proven anything yet. And, that's IF they ever catch him. Which they won't."

"Ha. That's what you think."

"Shut up Draco." 

"Fine. You know I'm right."

"Are not."

"Am too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not."

"Someone help me here!" Ginny was starting to look flustered. "He's acting like a four year old."

"That's his mentality level. He can't help it." Granger could be very uppity if she tried.

"Ha. Ha. Funny, Granger."

She grinned. "I know."

"Cut the sarcasm."

"Hypocrite."

"And stop with the big words."

"Why, Draco? Don't know what they mean?"

"I'm fighting a losing battle, aren't I?"

"Yes," said Potter. "Now go away."

"Fine." So I left. Ginny gave Hermione a high five. And that's when I realized. I liked her. A lot. Why else had I resorted to childish tactics? A Malfoy could have thought of better then to act like a four-year-old. I dismissed Crabbe and Goyle, and walked back to the Prefect cars, my thoughts swirling around in my head. 

*

I watched the Sorting with less-than-interest, since my eyes kept drifting over to the Gryffindor table, where Ginny and Hermione were laughing and cheering together at each "GRYFFINDOR" coming from the hat. Professor Snape watched me with interest. "Draco," he said. "What ARE you doing?" What I wanted to know why he couldn't sit at the teachers' table like he normally did.

"Planning my revenge on Potter, sir," I said. "He made an idiot of me on the train."

He laughed. "Just do whatever you are going to do in potions class, and you won't get in too much trouble." Professor Snape hated Potter even more than I did. Something to do with his father, but I wasn't really sure. And I knew not to ask for fear of detention.

The next day, I sat in the library, looking up the twenty-seven uses of greuven leaves for an essay in potions. I was up to fourteen when Pansy Parkinson came up to me. "Draco, could you help me with the transfiguration work? I don't get it."

I never liked Pansy Parkinson. She was a hopeless flirt. "Look Pansy, I'm really busy right now. Maybe later."

"Pretty please?" She twisted her features into a pout. "With a cherry on top?"

"Get Crabbe to help you."

"No. I want YOU to help me."

"No Pansy. I will not help you with your homework. Do it on your own."

"Fine." She walked away, wriggling her hips. I shuddered. It looked disgusting.

"Um, Draco?" It was Ginny. "Do you have a quill I could borrow? I broke mine."

"Yeah. Hang on a sec." I dug one out of my knapsack, which sat on the floor next to me. "Here. By the way, do you know the twenty-seventh use of greuven leaves? I can't find it." I handed her my parchment.

She bent over it, intently reading. Then she handed it back. "You forgot number eighteen. They can be used to clean up messes made by wand explosions."

"Thanks."

"I'll bring your quill back tomorrow. Thanks a bunch. Well, bye."

"Bye." 

I concluded my now-lengthy essay and walked back to he common room, where I muttered "Pure-blood" to the wall and walked to my dorm. Slytherin dorm hadn't changed the password since my second year at Hogwarts, which, I realized, made it very easy for intruders to get in. I took the matter into my own hands. 

I tacked a message onto the bulletin board and told the wall about the change. It would now only open to the word, "Gnilworkj". I figured the change would trick up a few people, including intruders. Now that that matter of almost no importance was taken care of, I flopped onto my bed and pondered ways to accomplish a more important mission- get the youngest Weasley to notice me.

*

After I had sufficed a decent plan, I scribbled a message on a scrap of parchment, send out Grindelwald, my owl, and went to dinner. The message was to my father, asking him to send me my lucky quill, which I had left on my bureau.

As I sat at the Slytherin table, I got to talking to Blaise Zabini, a boy in my year, whom I didn't talk too much. We started talking about our essays. He had been in the library at the same time as I had been. "Hey, I saw Pansy bothering you," he said. "I'm sorry." He smiled.

"Hey, I'll get over it."

"She's annoying, isn't she?"

"Mmmhmm. Very. I'm normally the topic of her affection. We need to get her a boyfriend."

"Hey," said Zabini. "How 'bout Potter? You said you wanted to get revenge on him…" 

I felt a slow grin spread across my face. "Meet me in the library at the back right table right after dinner. Okay? We need to find a good spell." 

*

Zabini and I started with books on Charms. "Here's a love charm," he said, turning the pages of _1001 Handy Household Charms_. "But it needs five weeks to work. I don't think so."

"Hey," I said. "Can you believe that Gilderoy Lockhart actually published a book on Charms? There's at least fifty smile charms, but no love charm." We looked at each other and then started laughing.

"Maybe a potion would be easier to find."

"Okay," I said. "I'll look."

I grabbed _Potions That a Squib Could Make!_ and _The Only Potion Book You'll Ever Need_ off the shelf and opened the latter. "Here," I said. "This one only needs two days, and it's really easy. We can get everything right out of the student cupboard." Zabini took the book up to Madam Pince and checked it out. We were ready for revenge.

I found that the more time I spent with Blaise Zabini, the more I liked him. He was my newfound best friend, since I had recently given up on reforming Crabbe and Goyle. We decided to make the potion in our dorm, since Crabbe and Goyle were too thick to realize that anything was up. They would most likely end up trying it and falling in love with each other. Meanwhile, on the sly, I continued thinking about Ginny. I even considered giving her the love potion.

*

After a day of deep thought, getting a detention in Transfiguration, and dozing off in Defense Against the Dark Arts (Luckily, Professor Minstel didn't care), I decided on a solution for my dilemma. Grindelwald was in the owlery, so I scribbled a note with my lucky quill and sent it to the Gryffindor girls' dorm. The note read as follows:

__

Ginny,

I have a matter of utmost urgency to discuss with you.

Meet me on the hill next to the Quidditch field at 4:00 PM tomorrow.

Be accompanied by no one. Trust me, you'll be fine.

Draco S. Malfoy

After a class in Astronomy the next morning, I was beginning to get nervous. The only class remaining was Divination, which, for Zabini and me, was a laugh-fest. So far, Potter had 'died' five times, Pansy had died twice, something that made us happy, and Ron had failed three classes. 

Our plan of revenge was working well. Potter was thoroughly miserable, and Pansy was off our backs. We were incredibly happy.

I ate almost nothing at lunch, and halfheartedly did my homework with Zabini after. At four 'o' clock, I left and walked in the cool autumn air towards the Quidditch field. I saw Ginny sitting, hair blowing in the wind, staring out at the lake. "Ginny?"

"Hi Draco."

"Ginny, I have a confession to make. I… I'm in love with you."

"Draco… I…"

"Please, let me talk." I sat down on the hill. "I figured it out on the train." She grinned, inevitably thinking of the encounter. "I kept thinking, after that, of ways to get you to fall in love with me. I considered a love potion or something. But then, I realised that love can't be dictated. I couldn't take it upon myself to make everyone I loved love me back. The world doesn't work that way, no matter how much I want it to. If you loved me you'd have to do it of your own accord. And that's why I wrote you that letter. I'm not taking the Mickey, but I have to know."

"So it was you that put the love potion on Harry."

I nodded.

"I… I think…"

"What is it, Ginny?"

"Oh, I'm just all mixed up," she whispered. "I want to love you; but I don't know if I have the courage to."

"Ginny, please…"

"Sssshhh," she whispered "You'll spoil it. Don't speak."

And so we didn't.

A/N: Opinions, please? I'd appreciate it if you'd review this. If I get too many bad reviews, I'll take it down or re-write it, simple as that. Note: "taking the Mickey" is a British phrase I got out of a book. It means to make fun of somebody. Please review or contact me at [bee824@yahoo.com][1]. Thanks for Reading!

~Bumblebee =)

   [1]: mailto:bee824@yahoo.com



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